


Night Terrors

by sleepwhorethey



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:27:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28163160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepwhorethey/pseuds/sleepwhorethey
Summary: Terror only comes out at night.





	Night Terrors

**Author's Note:**

> Just a vent book really, enjoy my pain.

It was a nightmare.

She knew it was, but she hadn't had one in years. Back when she was younger, the images created in her mind during the hours of the night forced her lungs to let out the pain without conscious action. Her parents had never mentioned it, only years after the screaming had stopped was she told of the noise she caused out of fear of her dreams. And yet, she remembered the feelings from the dreams with perfect clarity. They were not dreams at all, they were nightmares; and they were _terrifying_. 

But what she did not remember was the content of the nightmares, and now she was in one again- she desperately wished she could. Maybe then she'd have an idea how to move her limbs from the dark sludge slowing rising and trapping them. She wanted to flail out, to scream and thrash and swim her way out of the suffocating sludge. It rose slowly, every inch feeling disgustingly familiar against her skin. She was scared, just like she was when she was a kid. She didn't want to die. She wanted to scream. She screamed out for help into the black abyss, realising too late that opening her mouth would only allow the sludge to invade her further. She let out her last breath, and closed her eyes. 

The next inhale was cold, and the air tasted like smoke. Her lungs protested as she coughed and spluttered, willing air into her lungs whilst simultaneously wanting the smoke out. She fell to her knees, knowing the smoke would be less dense there, the mud and twigs of the forest floor scraping her knees as she heaved in and out. In and out. In and out. She reached a steady rhythm, her lungs no longer crying out for air. She turned to sit and lean against a nearby tree, uncaring of the mud staining her white nightdress. She breathed, slow and steady. The smoke had disappeared. She sighed in relief. 

A howl echoed through the woods. She heard the sound, but she knew now that it was nothing to be scared of. The wolves were kind, they understood her. Attempting to stand left her limbs aching more so then they already were, and the rush of blood that came with standing made her head pound. She gave up on that endeavor, instead calling out a name into the night, one she knew would be recognised by those who knew. She took another deep breath, eyes wandering past the leafless trees and to the sky above. The sky was devoid of stars, and the moon itself was not there when she looked, but yet the moonlight was casting an eerie glow across her exhausted body. Another howl. Her head throbbed at the sound, louder than it was before. She lifted a hand to hold it in place, hoping that it would hurt less if she did, but all she felt was wet. She tore her hand away as if she had just touched a brand, before slowly lifting her hand to the moonlight to examine the liquid. Red. Blood. Howling. Before she could even scream, a hand clamped down over her mouth and she lost her breath once more. 

When she opened her eyes once more, the blinding white light burned her eyes. She closed them again on instinct. She preferred the dark, it was so much safer in the dark. She could feel the padded material behind her and below her, and needed no more information to know her whereabouts. She hated here. It always hurt here. She wanted to curl up in the corner, to cry her heart out until the pain she knew was coming didn't exist anymore.

But it always came. 

This time it was with the crashing of metal, a door slamming off of its hinges and a hand dragging her by her hair. She thrashed out, the pain of moving searing through her already aching skull. She didn't want to go with them, she wanted to go away, to go away from this, to not be here, to not feel the pain. All her efforts at escaping the hand harshly holding her up by the hair were only rewarded with a harsher grip. Her body was jerked by her head and dragged down a corridor, her heels scraping against the cold metal as she continued to fight against the hand holding her captive. She was eventually released, throw to the ground carelessly with an extra kick to the gut to keep her quiet. As if her body wasn't aching enough. The fatigue of fighting her captors hit her all at once, and she let her eyes droop closed on the freezing floor. 

Bad move. 

She was frozen. Eyes were staring at her, she couldn't move. They were expecting of her, she was standing in the spotlight. The dress she wore was ornate and beautiful, clearly crafted by talent, but it felt like a cage to her. She was trapped within its layers, not able to move forward or back. The eyes were still watching. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She didn't know what to say, she couldn't say what they wanted to hear. She tried to turn, look for any sign of help, but a set of eyes trapped her gaze forwards. Then another set. And another. There were rows and rows of them, all staring, all expecting. And she couldn't breathe, she couldn't say, she couldn't do it- she crumbled. Her voice came out strangled, and she closed her eyes as she cried out into the sky. She kept them shut, fearing the looks of disappointment she would see if she opened them. The tears rolled down her cheeks freely, and she let out another cry. She was weak. so so weak and vulnerable in front of all of them. She wished they'd disappear. She cried. 

The smell of smoke brought her eyes to open once again, not suffocating like it was before. She felt more than saw the heat of the flames, ones that were licking throughout the panicking audience. The entire theatre was on fire, with everyone trapped inside. She stood dumbfounded for a second, the ripped remains of the dress she once wore almost causing her to slip when she stepped forwards. People were set ablaze, their screams of fear making a delightful symphony. She took another step forward, wanting to experience the scene closer. She was free, finally, _finally_ free. 

She laughed. 

_I woke up in cold sweat._


End file.
